All Just a Misunderstanding
by Angellia
Summary: Dean never thought she'd prove him wrong. Part One of the 'Misunderstanding' series


**All Just a Misunderstanding**

**Disclaimer – Don't own anything you might recognize. BTVS belongs to Joss Whedon and Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke**

**Summery – Dean never imagined she'd prove him wrong. **

**AN – Part One of 'Misunderstanding' series. Set at the beggining of S4 in BTVS and mid S1 of Supernatural  
**

Though he would never show his slightly dorky side to his massively dorky brother, Dean Winchester had actually been kind of psyched about going to Sunnydale, he really had. He'd wanted to go there _forever_ – well, for the whole week it had been since he had learnt about _her_.

What possible reason was there for it to go wrong? He could beat on some fugly demon ass for a few, and then introduce himself to this famous 'Vampire Slayer', see if she was really worth the pages and pages of hype in his dad's journal. She must be something special, he'd mused, for his father to put her in there in the first place. After all, the thing was practically a _holy _item. At least to John, anyway.

Part One of the plan had been blown into smithereens as soon as he and Sam had arrived at the spot they'd been told they'd find their demon. They'd gotten there just in time to watch a tiny blonde midget rip the head off of their kill with her own two little hands.

Kind of rude, if you asked Dean.

And fine, she may not exactly have been a midget or anything. She was short though. And her hands _were _really little.

Part Two of the plan...well at least he'd gotten his wish to meet her. Perhaps he could have avoided the clichéd 'I thought you'd be taller' opening line. She probably got that all the time. Yeah, he bet she got that all the time. No wonder she'd cocked a patronizing eyebrow at him and walked away without saying a single word.

So she was rude _and _patronizing. His dad had never written _that _in his journal.

Dean probably shouldn't have followed her either. Probably should have just listened to Sam and headed back to the motel, but he'd always made a point of ignoring Sam's advice, especially when it made sense – which it invariably did.

He most _definitely _shouldn't have smirked at her and told her that he'd much rather watch her behind anyway. Yeah, he'd probably deserved that slug in the nose.

And when he'd followed her all the way back to some weird old English guys home and met those jumped up friends of hers...well, all he had to say about _that _was that they were almost as bad as she was. Actually, scratch that, they were about a billion times worse. At least when they had oh so politely informed him and Sam that Sunnydale was _their _territory, little Miss Buffy had rolled her eyes at them and told them to lay off.

Though to be honest he hadn't appreciated it all that much when she'd told them he was harmless. Yeah, harmless his ass! She should try some hand to hand combat with him sometime, see who the harmless one was then! So she might have the strength and all that, but_ he_ had the skill.

Rude, patronizing bitch.

Too bad she was so damned hot.

* * *

The quiet mumble of Sam's voice brought Dean out of his daze, and he stopped watching the people on the dance floor to look at his brother. "What was that?"

"I said why are we still here?"

"Where?"

"Here. In Sunnydale."

Dean took a sip of his beer, stalling for time. His brother looked bewildered, and truthfully, he had every right to be. He swilled the beer around in his mouth and winced, glancing down at the label on the bottle. What the hell crap was this? Although, looking around at the rest of this place – the Bronze, or the Gold or something stupid like that – it wasn't really that much of a surprise that the beer would be awful. The club was crappy. Filled with kids and terrible music and non hot bar girls. But Buffy had mentioned that she'd be hanging here tonight to chill after her first month of college, and Dean had somehow found himself getting cleaned up and dragging his brother out here.

Hell, he'd even _shaved_.

"I mean," Sam continued when Dean failed to produce an answer. "the only reason we cam here in the first place was to get rid of that demon, and Buffy took care of that _weeks _ago. We should've headed out first thing the next day. It's not exactly like we're needed here. Dean, we need to get back out on the road to look for Dad."

Dead tried to rearrange his face into an expression of surprise. "Not needed? What the hell are you talking about, Sammy? I helped killed three vamps last night!"

Sam scoffed into his bottle, clearly not even trying to hide his disbelief. "You mean you got your ass handed to you by three vampires and Buffy had to save your life. Again."

Dean frowned and drained his drink. "Whatever, man." Stupid, knowing brother.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sam watching him through narrowed slits for a moment, before breaking out into a wide, enlightened smirk and emitting a bark of amused laughter. "Dude, do you _like _her or something? Do you have a little crush on her?"

"_What_?" Dean's head whipped up so fast that he could have sworn the movement gave him whiplash. "What do you mean, do I like her? Are you friggin' crazy? This is Buffy we're talking about here! Stuck up little Buffy! What's to like?"

"Plenty of things," Sam replied smugly. "She's pretty, can more than handle herself in a fight, knows about all the insane things that really go on in our world, smart-"

Dean stopped his brother's list with a snort. "Aw, come on! She's about as smart as a caterpillar."

"Then how come she's managed to make you look like an idiot more than a couple of times?"

Dean grunted and turned away. If Sam hadn't still been so raw over the loss of Jess, he might have accused _him _of being the one to have a crush on Buffy. As it was, Dean decided to use a little bit of that tact he had buried deep, deep, _deep _down inside of him to spare Sam of any extra heartache. Just this once. Which was mighty big of him, he thought, considering how much of an ass Sam was being. "Well, you're wrong," he objected finally. "She's too skinny for my tastes. I like my women with a few more curves. I like something to hold on to when I'm showing them a good time, if you know what I mean?"

"Vividly, unfortunately," Sam answered dryly.

"Besides, I bet she has no idea what she's doing anyway. Probably a crappy kisser, let alone the rest of it."

Sam frowned in confusion. "What makes you say that?"

Dean wasn't quite sure, actually. It certainly wasn't what he was really thinking. He kinda just wanted Sam off of his case and the words had just spilled from his mouth. If anything, he'd put money on her being a total wildcat in the sack, but since he'd already started..."Think about it. A girl who spends all of her time training and fighting is bound to know nothing when it comes to sex. She may make an effort to look good, but she's clueless, I guarantee it."

Sam looked disgusted, as he well should. "You know what, Dean, you're such an-" His sentence halted midway, and his eyes froze on a point over Dean's shoulder.

"Sam?" Dean called, waving a hand in front of his wide eyed brother. "Sammy?"

When he still got no response from a horrified looking Sam, Dean twisted around in his seat to see for himself just what had spooked his brother.

He should have known.

"Oh God," he breathed, turning back around and sinking a little lower into his seat.

Halfway in-between their table and the bar, with her back to them and her shoulders haunched, was Buffy – clearly walking away. Her stride was purposeful but her head was low.

Sam rubbed his hand over his forehead, blinking as if trying to will her form away. "Do you think she heard you?" he wondered out loud, his voice higher with stress.

Dean banged his elbows down onto the table and dropped his head into his hands.

* * *

It was only two nights later when Dean next accompanied Buffy out on her nightly patrol.

Perhaps accompanied was too strong a word, he mused to himself, silently. More, followed her until she reluctantly allowed him tag along, just like she did every time they 'accidentally' ran into one another in the graveyards nearest her college campus.

Neither had mentioned the unfortunate incident at the bar. In fact, Dean was pretty sure that he had gotten away with it and she hadn't heard him at all. This was _Buffy_! She was the kind of girl who'd kick his ass in a _second _if she thought he was mocking her, right?

Yeah.

"Uh, so...me and Sam are gonna head out tomorrow," he revealed gruffly as they walked side by side, finally breaking the uncomfortable silence that had been surrounding them, suffocating them. "Get back on the road, start looking for our dad again."

Had he imagined it, or had there been the tiniest little flicker of disappointment in her eyes at his announcement?

"Oh?" she asked, her voice coming out far too casual yet far too high pitched. "How come?"

Yep, it was there all right. A tiny, delicious, defeated little pout.

Dang it.

"We got a few other jobs lined up," he explained. "Few other things we need to get done. And like I said, we really need to get back on the hunt for Dad."

She nodded slowly, her eyes darting everywhere. Everywhere but him. "Well...okay then. Guess I'll see you around sometime. Maybe. If you're in the area. Maybe."

Dean waited expectantly. And waited. And then he waited some more. He'd waited even more by the time he realized that she wasn't about to say anything else.

"That's it?" he demanded. "That's all you have to say to me?"

She frowned, pausing mid-step and turning too look at him in obvious confusion. "What else do you want me to say?" she questioned.

"Hell, I don't know! _Anything_! It was nice to meet you would do. Or drive safe, or stay a bit longer. Jeez, something!"

She glared at him disdainfully. "Seriously? You think I want you to stay _longer_? You have to be kidding me, right?"

He folded his arms over his chest, his own disdainful look matching hers perfectly. "Oh, come on, squeaky. Don't play the hard to get game. We both know there's chemistry between us."

Dean wasn't sure he'd ever seen anyone look _quite _so disgusted before – at least not while looking at _him_. Maybe he'd read it wrong after all, which was odd, because he was usually so good at reading people. Especially women. Especially hot women.

"You know what, Dean," she spat back at him. "It _wasn't _nice meeting you and I sure as hell don't care whether or not you drive safe. In fact, _don't _drive safe, see if I care." She turned abruptly and began to walk away.

He stared at her back for a long moment, before following after her, well aware that this could only end up with his getting a bloody nose. Again. "You heard, didn't you?" he questioned quietly.

"Heard what?" she retorted with obvious nonchalance.

"The other night. In the club, I mean. You heard what I said."

"I don't know what you're talking about." And yet the way she clenched her fists and her jaw implied otherwise.

"Look," he uttered desperately. "This is all just a big misunderstanding. I didn't mean any of that stuff, I promise."

She stopped once again and span around to face him, her hair whipping about her face wildly. Dean felt a little guilt monster begin to eat away at his insides when he saw the beginnings of tears in her eyes.

"If you didn't mean it then why did you say it?" she demanded. "I mean, it's not even like you _know_!"

"I...don't know why I said it," he replied, shrugging his shoulders helplessly and feeling like the worst little bit of scum on the entire planet. "Sam was on my ass about some things and it just sort of came out and got all out of control."

"What could Sam have _possibly _been on your ass about to have made you say things like that?"

Dean shifted uncomfortably and looked down at the floor. "Uh...nothing special."

She shook her head at him, her lip curling in obvious disgust. "You're an ass hole," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Good freakin' riddance." She turned away once more, but before Dean could say anything else she had twirled back around. "And one last thing-"

Stepping forwards, she reached up and grabbed both of Dean's cheeks with her hands and pulled his face down to hers, planting her soft lips over his.

Her kiss was hard and firm and furious and passionate and everything Dean could have imagined and more. A relieved kind of grunting noise escaped his throat when he felt her tongue touch his and he waisted no time in grasping her by the waist and pulling her closer to him, fitting her against his body so tightly that it was a miracle either of them could breathe.

Buffy moaned softly and it was in that exact moment that Dean realized that Sam was right, of all the hellish things. He had a damned crush on Buffy Summers. A stupid hormonal, angst ridden crush. No wonder he'd been acting like such an ass around her.

But before he could ponder upon the subject any further, Buffy was pushing him away, hard. He stumbled, reaching a hand out to the nearest gravestone to steady himself.

"-I'm not crappy at 'all the other things' either," she announced hotly.

This time when she turned and stalked away, she didn't once turn back. And for the first time ever, Dean didn't follow her.


End file.
